


Church Prime

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Church Prime, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jschlatt Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Minor Original Character(s), Not Canon Compliant, Religion, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, not dream smp but not irl either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Relationships: No Platonic Relationship(s), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	Church Prime

Jschlatt had been raised religious.

Raised under the religion of Church Prime, attending Church at every possible opportunity, getting baptised before he even knew what that meant. As he grew up, he drifted away from the religion. It just wasn't for him. But sometimes, he wondered. What if God was real? What if he was going to hell for not believing in the God that he had been taught? These nights happened more frequently then he'd like. Most of the time he could deal with them, but sometimes... sometimes.

* * *

He had almost drifted off to sleep, when the thoughts started creeping in.

_How can you be so sure that there isn't a God?_

He opened his eyes, annoyed that yet again, his own brain was preventing him from getting some sleep.

**I can't be sure. It's just what I believe.**

_But what if you're believing wrong?_

**I'll find out.**

_When you find out, it'll be too late._

**Maybe so.**

_It's not too late right now._

The thoughts got louder as he climbed out of his bed, dangling his legs over the edge of his bed. What he'd do to quieten his brain. He got up and slowly made his way over to his bathroom sink, and splashed his face with cold water. He looked up, and even in the dim lighting, he looked like death. Dark circles sitting under his dull eyes, his hair in a tangled mess, his skin freakishly pale. He silently wondered why that was.

_You know why._

The thought was right. He knew why he looked like this. But he didn't want to think about that right now. He went to his kitchen and grabbed a drink, the thoughts interrupting his own. They were getting too much. They were too much. He needed to go somewhere. He ran back to his room and threw on the first clothing he saw - a white shirt and dark grey trousers. He ran back down and grabbed his normal and car keys, then left the house as quickly as he could. He jumped into his car, turned the keys, and started driving. He didn't know where he was going, but right at the back of his head, he knew. He went down the roads at top speeds, slowing down when he got to the narrower path-like single lane roads. He winded around until he was staring up at the building that had caused all of this. He walked into the building, but not before grabbing the gun that was sat on the seat next to him.

* * *

He fell to his knees in front of the statue of God, staring at it's eyes. He wasn't sure why he was here. This building had only brought him painful memories for as long as he could remember. There was only one good thing, one good person, who he had met through this, yet she had died to her own hands because this place convinced her that she was wrong for existing. The thought of her made his hands shake. He reached for the gun that he had thrown to his side when he fell, and held it in his grip. He wanted to talk to her again, and assure her that she was ok. Oh, how _badly_ he wanted to talk to her again. He stared at the gun, thoughts rushing through his head. If this church was right all along, then he could go and talk to her in heaven. Or hell. He'd be more likely to end up in hell, anyway. 

His shaking hands held the gun up closer to his face, staring down the barrel. He could go and see her. His hands started shaking more. Then he dropped the gun, and he screamed.

It was a scream that he would regret later, making his vocal chords sting, making his entire body shudder. The scream went on for what seemed like ages, breaking down into sobs after. The church stood still in the middle of the night, wind whistling through the empty building. The trees outside shook under the wind, leaves falling off the branches, breaking into hundreds of pieces. Nobody was around to hear him, nobody had lived in this area for years. Yet, even if someone had heard him, he wouldn't care.

Jschlatt had been raised religious.


End file.
